Balls! Balls! Balls! (Of Snow)
by AprilLittle
Summary: Yeah, so this is just a super-duper hodgepodge of drabbles for C/P. I apologize if anyone else stumbles upon it.
1. Chapter 1

**Iris hit me first, so I shall respond in kind :)**

Mrs. Everdeen's third attempt to realign the threads of the lid with those on the base proved successful. She leaned across the counter to nestle the large jar of comfrey back in with her other herbs. A dark green sprig, wrapped prettily with red ribbon, fell from where it had been perched to dry. _ Mistletoe. _When Haymitch presented it to her after the Victory Tour, her flustered acceptance caused him to insist he brought it for medicinal purposes only. But as his visits occurred more frequently, and he lingered hours past the table's clearing in the evenings, she wondered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Down, Kitty! Down! _HISS!_**

The faint sound of jingling bells drew Gale's attention to a large white birch. Scanning the area around the tree, the lack of snow made the predawn darkness impenetrable. About to blame his imagination for conjuring the noise, a plume of condensation in the chill air became illuminated by the moon. Gale smiled as he quietly notched an arrow and waited for the sun to reveal his prey. By the deer's grunts, he tracked its foraging until a glint of sunshine caught on the creature's nose. _Red? _His arrow hit the heart perfectly. _'Merry Christmas' to me._


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, at least I didn't give you Gale, eh? ;)**

Effie removed her foot from the pedal at precisely the same moment the needle re-emerged from the fabric. Perfect. She had been delighted The invitation to Peeta's annual holiday party had been a delightful surprise, and the perfect opportunity to bring some style to the district.

She carefully made her way up the front walk, amazed to see everyone in outfits much like her own. _Mine is better, of course. Look at these gloriously festive feathers! _At the end of the evening, she received confirmation of her superiority in the form of a moulded plastic trophy. _'Ugliest Sweater'?_


	4. Chapter 4

**I'll trade you a Prim for a Prim!**

Katniss traced the intricately frozen patterns on the pane until the warmth of her skin reduced them to watery smudges. She used the sleeve of her shirt to clear the view, and watched from as Prim navigated through the falling snowflakes to a copse of oaks near their property's edge. Beneath the giant trees, her Little Duck frightened her for a moment, falling straight back into the snow. But when Prim's arms and legs began to move, Katniss knew there was no reason to worry. _A snow angel. _She leaned her brow against the cool glass and smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Yo, Zero.**

With a small grooming comb, he worked peppermint oil through his beard; though not as long or full as photos showed St. Nick's, Snow felt it would do. He pulled the red fur-trimmed hat onto his head, cinched up the wide black belt, and turned to the mirrored wall panel to see if he looked as ridiculous as he felt. _Indeed. _For years before Panem existed, Santa proved that a certain degree of ridiculousness could gain - and maintain - lot of power. He hoisted his bag of parachutes over a shoulder. _You better watch out. You better not cry. _


	6. Chapter 6

**For Angel**

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas. . ._

Enobaria's tongue moves from the point of her incisor to the sharpened end of a peppermint stick that protrudes from the corner of her mouth.

_All is calm, all is bright. . ._

She crunches through the tapered tip, narrows her eyes at the carolers as they flip to a new page in their songbooks, then recommences honing.

_Fa la la la la, la la la LA. . ._

When Brutus tosses a gingerbread man into her lap, inquiring where her Christmas spirit is, she nonchalantly stabs her candycane through the raisin projecting its doughy little heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**For Zoey**

Thread readjusts his grip until he's confident he can toss the last spindly carcass to the top of the burnpile. With a grunt of effort, he only manages to deposit it halfway up; a limb snagged on the cuff of his glove he insists to his sniggering squad. With a glare, he signals for the pair of peacekeepers equipped with flamethrowers to ignite the edges. The rest of the troops patrol the perimeter of the flames to keep bystanders back. Thread stands with his arms crossed, watching as the remaining wisps of tinsel shrivel around brown needles, then disappear.


End file.
